And the Silence Echoes
by messrs marauders
Summary: Alternate Ending: Voldemort's rise to power was swifter and far more terrible than anyone had predicted, so much so that, during James and Lily's Sixth year, Hogwarts was attacked, Dumbledore was defeated and the Dark Lord's ascension was complete. Mature content, including rape, abuse, language and sex.
1. No Angels Left in Heaven

A/N: Image copyright goes to viria13; I make absolutely no claim to it whatsoever, please don't sue! Also, despite my many attempts at brewing Polyjuice Potion, I have been unsuccessful in my endeavour to become J K Rowling.

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_**Summary:** Alternate Ending: Voldemort's rise to power was swifter and far more terrible than anyone had predicted, so much so that, during James and Lily's Sixth year, Hogwarts was attacked, Dumbledore was defeated and the Dark Lord's ascension was complete. The world was in a state of anarchy and decay. The Resistance was crushed within weeks, and now, with no hope of a future left, Lily has been on the run for over a year. When, finally, she is taken by Snatchers and presented to Voldemort himself, she is confronted by one of the last people she'd ever thought she'd see again. Mature content, including rape, abuse, language and sex._

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**1**

**No Angels Left In Heaven**

"Let me go, you bastards!" She attempted to wriggle out of their grasps but both her arms were bound and she was surrounded on all sides. Despite managing to land a hard, angry kick on one of their shins, she ended up kneeling on the floor, head tilted painfully as someone's hand pulled at her hair. She let out an unintentional yelp.

"You'll come easily, if you know what's good for you, girl." She couldn't see the speaker, and despite the firm grip in her hair, she shook her head wildly, trying to dislodge the hand. Another dirty hand clasped around her neck and she felt hot breath on her cheek.

"The Dark Lord wants people like you alive, but he didn't say anything about unharmed." The voice warned. He stepped into her field of vision and grinned. "A pretty girl like you. We could certainly have some fun." There was raucous laughter. Fear and disgust coiled in her stomach, the threat of what may happen to her creating a knot in her throat.

"We could do it now, Hansen; we could all have a quick go at her." Another Snatcher addressed the one in front of her, eagerly. He was young, had probably only been doing this for a short period of time. He may even have been at Hogwarts with her, although she recalled only few of her classmates. When every day was a race for survival, a gamble of her life, she didn't spend time remembering the people she used to know. Dwelling on the past was a sure way to get yourself killed, especially if you still trusted the people from the past. It was better to rely on no one but yourself, Lily had quickly learnt.

"If you touch me, I will kill you." She bit out between clenched teeth, but was an empty threat, they all knew it. Her wand was in the possession of one of the Snatchers, and she was outnumbered six to one. The one named Hansen laughed, wheezing slightly.

"You do that, darling." He said, reaching out a hand to caress her collarbone. He ran the tip of his finger across it to the edge of her shirt, and then nudged it down, exposing her shoulder. He leaned in and sniffed her neck. Lily's jaw ached from how hard she was clenching her teeth. She wanted to thrash and scream wildly, dislodge the abhorrent hand on her skin, but she waited until his face was in reach, and then bucked forward and head butted him square in the nose.

"Fucking bitch!" he cried, careening backwards, clutching at his nose. A dribble of blood ran down between his fingers. There was a blow to her head and her vision swam. A cry escaped her lips. She would have collapsed if he hadn't been held up by two others. Hansen grabbed at her shoulders and then tore her shirt open, roughly grabbing at her breasts so hard it hurt. She thrashed, screaming at Hansen to get off her, but a hand snaked around her mouth and muffled her cries.

"Anderson, Young, hold her down." Hansen instructed. She felt herself being forced backwards and then her back was touching the cold, rocky ground. She felt his mouth on her skin, licking and biting painfully. She was choking on terrified sobs, made worse by the fact that the hand over her mouth made it difficult to breathe, helplessly fighting back. She was trying to kick him off but he was straddling her and then his hand reached down her trousers and she felt his fingers touch her.

"Please, please don't do this; please don't do this, please, please." She was begging now, and she loathed them for doing this and she loathed herself for not being strong enough to fight back, for being so weak and vulnerable and most of all for begging them. He leered down at her, chuckling at her distress.

"The more you struggle, the more it will hurt." He told her mockingly. A man next to her head grunted.

"Hansen, I think we have a problem." Lily looked towards the voice, and then followed his finger to the end of the alleyway where spells flashed. With a sigh, Hansen stood up and drew his wand.

"I'll finish with you later, you little shit." He said, and then nodded at the two men holding her down. She was pulled roughly to her feet and with a barely suppressed sob; she pulled her shirt back over her chest to cover herself. They were all distracted now and Lily took her chances. She punched Anderson in the jaw and when his fingers released her arm, she turned to flee the other way. She had barely run two steps when a hand grabbed at her hair, stopping her in midstride.

"Don't even think about it," She didn't know his name, but she spat in his face all the same, receiving a slap for her efforts. When she once again turned her attention to what was happening, she saw they were being joined by more Snatchers. Her spirits were crushed. There was absolutely no hope of escaping now, not with eleven of them to chase her. She would rather kill herself than have to live to face what would surely happen in her future, but she couldn't even do that. She had no wand, no way of fighting back. She had never felt so powerless in her entire life.

She was so tempted to just collapse on the floor and let the tears come, but she would not show weakness. Not yet anyway, they had not broken her enough for that. No one knew what happened to the muggleborns who were captured by Snatchers, and if there was one thing Lily prayed for; curled up in the dark trying to sleep, it was that she would never have to find out. It was too late to hope that she would escape. Too late to hope that she would get out of this alive and unscathed, but she would not go easily.

She was dimly aware of a hushed conversation taking place between Hansen and the man who appeared to be in charge of the other group. Hansen gesticulated wildly and then shook his head while the other talked. With a curse, he span away and grabbed her arm.

"Looks like there's a change of plans." He said roughly. "Ready, lads?" They all murmured assent, "Right. To the Ministry, then." With a bang, they apparated away until it was just Hansen and Lily. "Damn shame, too." He murmured to himself, stroking a finger down her cheek. She slapped his hand away.

"I'm going to kill you." She told him flatly; emotionlessly but with a razor sharp edge to her voice. She was looking him straight in the eye, pure hatred burning in her belly. "I'm deadly serious," Hansen looked uncomfortable for a moment, but shook his head at her.

"You'll either be dead, or serving as a household whore in a couple of days, love. I wouldn't be so confident in your ability to get revenge." With a smirk, he apparated, taking Lily with him.

They arrived in the atrium of the Ministry, a place Lily had only seen in newspapers and after Voldemort's rise to power, a place she'd hope never to see. It was relatively empty with only a few people – most in the black and silver ensemble of the Death Eaters – hurrying to and fro. She was dragged into a long hallway down the side, sloping downwards and lit only by a few candles.

Dread coiled in her stomach as she stumbled down after them, she knew this was the end of the line. It would be better to give up now, she told herself, but her Gryffindor determination refused to let her lose hope. Stubbornly, she clung to the optimistic, deluded hope that she would see the light of day again. She almost fooled herself into believing it. As they walked, the walls became danker, the air muggier and discoloured water dripped from the stone ceiling onto the floor, creating puddles that soaked her shoes, the cold creeping up from her feet into her legs.

Two men approached from the other direction, carrying between them a lump enshrouded in a black cloak. A lump that looked eerily similar to a body. Lily shuddered visibly, and Hansen took pleasure from this.

"Dropping like flies, they are." He said maliciously. "I doubt you'll survive long enough to be auctioned off." Lily forced herself not to show any interest in the 'auctioning'. She had no idea what it was, but with the information he had let slip, she had a pretty good idea. Along with the bits and pieces she had read in scraps of old, damp newspapers and the muffled whispers from other runaways, she guessed that it had something to do with becoming an object of pleasure and enjoyment for Voldemort's most trusted and favourite Death Eaters.

Her wrists were beginning to chafe against the rope bindings and the bruises on her body had begun to ache. She would have given anything for a hot bath and a warm bed and felt a maniacal laugh bubble up as she thought about the chances of a luxury accommodation as a prisoner.

They reached what looked like the cells and a harried clerk was taking details from another group of Snatchers with a middle aged man.

"I didn't steal magic from anyone." The weary way with which this was said alerted Lily to the fact that he had repeated this several times before. With a derisive snort, the clerk waved him away and the Snatchers hauled him into a cell and locked the door.

It was Lily's turn next. The clerk sighed and shook his head.

"Just put her in a cell," he rubbed his eyes and pushed his chair back. "I'll deal with her tomorrow." Hansen marched her to an empty cell; it was dark, wet and cold, almost empty apart from the bucket in the corner and the beetles that scuttled across the cold concrete floor. She wasn't prepared for the shove that came, and she sprawled on the floor, scraping her knees and palms. These were by no means the worst injury on her person, but it was the last straw and she couldn't withhold the tears that streamed down her face anymore.

"Sweet dreams, little lady," With those as his parting words, Hansen left her to rot.

Lily couldn't remember the last time she had eaten, or the last time she'd slept for that matter. It was exhausting being on the run, evading people like Snatchers, trying to find enough food to eat, someplace safe to sleep at night, and when she found an abandoned factory or cave in the forest, she couldn't let herself sleep for fear of being cornered; captured; killed. The few times she had dropped off, she had been awoken by awful nightmares that left her shaking in terror, a cold sweat on her body.

She hadn't seen a friendly face in months; the only people she crossed paths with were as frightened and wary as she. And now it was all over; there was nothing left she could do. She finally succumbed to the exhaustion, terror and grief and allowed herself to weep like she hadn't in many years.

* * *

She awoke shivering. Her body had broken out into a cold sweat; her clothes were sticky both from the sweat and the damp, and without needing to check, Lily knew she was ill. A combination of the conditions she had been subjected to in the cell, the fatigue and starvation and injuries she had sustained.

"Water," she croaked, her throat dry and scratchy, "I need water," she dragged herself upright, using the wall to remain standing. There was no one to hear her; just the occasional moans and rasping breaths from other prisoners in the cells adjacent to hers. "Please, someone, I need water."

She knew it was futile, and that likely, she would die within these walls and be carried out wrapped in a black cloak when someone actually noticed that she was no longer alive, just like she had seen upon her arrival. She collapsed back onto the floor, using the wall to prop herself up, fighting the delirium threatening to overtake her. She needed to remain awake until the clerk returned to see her, but she never saw him visit.

It was a pointless battle; the fever's hold was too strong already and her body was in no condition to fight it. She awoke periodically, only after vivid feverish nightmares stunned her into clarity.

The only visitors to the cells were more Snatchers with more prisoners. If Lily had been in any state to keep track of the new ones, she would have kept any eye out for the friends that she had left behind. Girls in her dormitory, ones she used to laugh and talk with. That life seemed so long ago now, she could barely remember it.

She had no way of keeping track of the passing hours, with no natural light in the cells. The most significant event that she was clearheaded enough to register was the arrival of two well dressed men who clearly ranked high.

"The next trial is scheduled for Tuesday. Hopefully most of the cells will be empty after that." Said one of the men. They both stopped in front of her cell.

"This one's been ill since she got here; no way is she going to last until the trial." The shorter one said to the other, "She'll be dead within the week," He shook his head as he inspected her through the bars.

"When were they last fed?" The first voice demanded. Lily stiffened through the haze of fever, recognizing that voice – one she hadn't heard since her days at Hogwarts. She looked up hesitantly; almost afraid to meet his eyes. His brown eyes were so much warmer without glasses on, and absently Lily wondered why he wasn't wearing them, but his hair was as messy and wild as ever. She couldn't connect the boy she once knew – albeit not very well – to the man, apparently a supporter of the Dark Lord, standing in front of her now.

"Master Potter, I don't know what you expect me to do," the first man blustered, "I have nothing to give to them. The Dark Lord doesn't care, and I don't see what I can do."

Lily watched carefully as 'Master Potter' looked down at her. Idly, she wondered if he would recognize her. After all, he had once claimed her to be the object of his undying and everlasting affections. She was dirty, though. And ill. If anyone recognized her through the mask of grime, the hair that was more brown than red and wildly tangled, she'd be surprised. She met his gaze, glaring as fiercely as she was able, and saw him flinch. So he had recognized her then.

"Who is she?" he demanded of the unnamed man.

"Er, she says her name is Lily Evans, but we're not sure. She's very ill and delirious." He shifted nervously. "We did a background check and there was a mudblood of her name at Hogwarts, so she could be telling the truth."

"See that she is fed," James instructed in a rush, then turned and all but fled back down the corridor.

* * *

She was barely conscience when two men entered her cell and hoisted to her to her feet.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked sluggishly, too ill to attempt fighting them off. They didn't bother answering her.

"No point taking her to trial. More trouble than it's worth if you ask me," one said to the other over her head, "She looks like she's ready to be put in a grave already."

From what they were saying, it wasn't hard to understand what would be in Lily's immediate future. She retraced her steps back down the grim passage again. In the atrium, the light pierced her eyes, burning them – a mixture of fever and being accustomed to the candlelight in the cells.

As she was dragged down towards the courtroom, her eyes met a pair of black ones. She froze, unable to tear her eyes away from his, feeling an overwhelming storm of both hatred and grief. It was only after Snape turned back to his companion that she realised that he was addressing Voldemort himself, and then the grief disappeared and it was just pure, unadulterated hatred.

The court room was large and imposing, almost threatening in its grandeur. The seats around the room were full of people, all glaring at her hard. She swallowed, feeling eyes on her from behind and in front. It was a vastly uncomfortable feeling, being surrounded on all sides and she went automatically for the familiar comfort of her wand before remembering that it had been taken from her.

"Your name is Lily Elizabeth Evans?" She squinted up towards the voice, which came from a man sitting in an ornate chair in the middle of the stands. She considered not answering; of stubbornly refusing to cooperate in the only form of rebellion she had left, but her head was pounding and she felt dizzy and all she wanted now was for it to be over and done with. She nodded.

"Where did you get your wand?" The inquisitor held up her wand.

"From Diagon Alley?" The question confused Lily; she wasn't sure where else she could have got it from.

"Liar! You stole this wand." He barked at her sharply. She cringed backwards.

"What? No – I – It was from Ollivanders – It … it chose me." she said feebly.

"The wand cannot choose you considering you are not a witch. You stole it from a magical being. When did you steal it?" He gestured to them men behind her and she felt a blow to her back. Wincing, she straightened back up and bowed her head in submission.

"I didn't steal it," she repeated but her voice was quieter than before. "You can make me take Veritaserum, I didn't steal it." There was a chorus of insults from the crowd, a mixture of 'liar','mudblood', 'bitch' and ugly jeers.

The man shook his head and nodded to someone beside him, who then stood up and cleared this throat.

"His Honour, Master Dolohov will now close the trial for the mudblood by the name of Lily Evans. Before the sentence is pronounced, does anyone have any objections?" Lily was outraged. She had never expected a fair trial, but this was ridiculous. She had barely had two minutes in trial.

In her periphery, she saw someone shoot up into a standing position. The inquisitor, who Lily now knew to be called Dolohov, stood up too.

"Master Snape. What is your objection?"

"I wish to have her." She had forgotten how nasally his voice had been. She was infuriated by him, by his attempt to own her like an object. As she had been brought in, the guards had been talking over her head saying to each other how she was too ill, too ugly for anyone to want her. She would be straight to the execution room, they had said. But it appeared that she was still valuable to someone. She always knew Snape had a thing for her, but had assumed he would grow out of it. Apparently not.

As soon as Snape had spoken, another figure had jumped up on the opposite side of the room.

"I, too, wish to have her." She turned towards the voice and almost fell over in astonishment when she saw that it was James who had addressed the court. Snape's face contorted into one of fury and disgust.

"Please, Master Dolohov," he said "as I asked for her first I believe –"

"Enough!" Dolohov barked. "I grow tired of you two bickering with each other. The matter will be passed onto the Dark Lord." Icy fingers trailed down Lily's back at the mention of his name. For so many years he had been the epitome of her nightmares and the reason for her fear. Over the course of her Hogwarts life, it had come to a point where thinking about him made dread tighten around her heart; and now even more so when she was outside the protective boundary of Hogwarts and at his mercy.

Dolohov waved to the guards and they started dragging her back down the corridor. At the last moment, she forced herself to look at James. His eyes were blank; neutral, but as she tried to laser him with her hatred, she thought she saw a flicker of doubt mar his features. It was so brief she could almost believe it was a fevered hallucination, but something in her gut told her it wasn't.

* * *

She had been lying in a heap in her cell where the guards had left her; the only way she knew time had passed was with the awful, hacking coughs that tore into her lungs.

Suddenly, there were loud, purposeful footsteps echoing down the corridor, and she heaved herself up to see who had arrived.

Her breath caught in her throat when she recognized James, and she was so focused on what would happen to her next with him that she almost didn't see the man behind him.

When she recognized that the man following James was Voldemort himself, her mouth tasted bitter with fear and she fought the urge to throw up. She was paralyzed with fear and absently marvelled at how one man could inspire such terror within people.

"Which is the prisoner you want?" Voldemort asked, his silky voice drawing shivers from Lily, either from the fever or from fear.

James hesitantly pointed to her and Voldemort came closer, inspecting her.

"She certainly looks unwell," he remarked.

"Yes, my Lord. I didn't mean to disturb you, my Lord, there was no reason for you to trouble yourself coming down here to the prison cells, I just wished to –" there was an oddly wild edge to his voice, and his face was pinched and worried.

"I prefer to keep an eye on the business of my trusted followers, and since you and Master Snape seem to have such a rivalry between you, it is only fair that I see the cause of such strife." Ill though she may have been, Lily did not miss the way Voldemort stressed his sentence, and the thought sickened her. She had never been close to James, had barely even liked him, but what she remembered of him during their time together at Hogwarts was that he was sometimes cruel, yes, but also fiercely loyal and fair and just. Seeing him standing there with the Dark Lord was an incongruity she couldn't get her head around.

"So you want her?" Voldemort addressed James once again. "I can't imagine why you'd interest yourself in a filthy little mudblood like her when you have so many other options open to you?" It was presented as a question, but there was an oddly threatening quality to it.

"I know her… from Hogwarts. I once thought her attractive." He said nonchalantly, eyes sliding up and down her body. "I never got what I wanted though." His eyes swivelled to meet hers once again, and she fought to control her anger with his next words. "Besides, I don't have a trophy yet." A pleased smile slithered across Voldemort's cold, pale features.

"Very well. She is yours. But, Master Potter… I will be paying attention to the situation. Don't let it get out of hand." Lily may have been half delirious, but she didn't miss the hardness of James' features as these words were uttered.

Voldemort swept out of the cells and James waited until his footsteps faded before unlocking her cell.

"Are you okay?" he whispered to her, and it almost sounded like he was genuinely concerned, like he genuinely cared. He touched a hand to her forehead to check her temperature and grimaced.

"Get the fuck off me!" she hissed, her words only slightly slurred. She violently shrugged him off and he let go as if he had been burned.

But she couldn't stand on her own, and James leapt forward just in time to catch her as she fell towards the ground. She tried weakly shoving him off again, but the movement made her head pound. She wanted to protest against this, wanted to tell him to let her fucking go, but her tongue wouldn't obey her commands and she was helpless as she was apparated away, and then everything was black.

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_And thus begins my first Jily multichapter! Let me know what you think, and if you would like me to carry on. If there are any mistakes, please feel free to send me a PM or review and tell me! Thanks xxx_


	2. The Road to Hell

_**Previously: **James leapt forward just in time to catch her as she fell towards the ground. She tried weakly shoving him off again, but the movement made her head pound. She wanted to protest against this, wanted to tell him to let her fucking go, but her tongue wouldn't obey her commands and she was helpless as she was apparated away, and then everything was black_

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**2**

**The Road to Hell**

She was aware of several brief periods of semi-consciousness but she couldn't quite distinguish between dream and reality.

…"_Sirius, she would have died!" Someone hissed angrily._

"_You blasted fuckhead! Merlin, James; Voldemort came with you when you released her? That's serious. And when Erasmus and Mnemosyne come back from their mission, this will be a hundred times more difficult. You've jeopardised everything!" _

"_I told him I just wanted her for the sex. He believed me. It will be fine. And as for the Rookwood's, they have more missions lined up. It'll be alright…" …_

… _The next time she was lucid, there was a soft, warm hand stroking her head with a cool cloth and water being dribbled into her mouth. She coughed as it went down the wrong way and she heard a curse and someone was propping her up and gently patting her back… _

…"_Is she going to die, James?" A little girl spoke next to Lily's ear._

"_No, Lou, don't say that. She'll get better." _

"_Will she play with me when she's better?"_

"_Well, if you ask her nicely." The smile in the voice was unmistakeable…_

… "_This isn't going to be easy you know. This isn't like the others."_

"_I know. But I had no choice."_

"_We all have choices."…_

… "_They're back now, I'll explain to them that she's ill and that's why she's here."_

_They'll never believe that!"_

"_They'll have to." …_

* * *

She was warm and comfortable; covered by a soft downy duvet. She buried her head deeper into the fluffy pillows that her head rested upon.

"Wait, what the fuck?" Her bemused voice echoed in the room.

Her eyes flew open with a start. The first thing she noticed was the absence of the empty void in her stomach. Her body was no longer demanding food and nourishment. She felt satisfied and full and suddenly she realised what the hunger had taken out of her. She had thought that she was used to it, but the mere fact that she no longer felt drained and weak was proof that starvation had taken more out of her than she had thought. More awake than she had been for a long time, she took in her surroundings.

Above her, there was a cotton canopy which folded down into drapes that surrounded the bed. At the moment, they had all been tied at the bed posts, and she had a good view of the rest of the room. It was large, and obviously expensive. There was a large, solid oak wardrobe in the corner on her right – the same wood as the bed posts – and the desk in the corner was also made of this wood. A large leather chair was sitting in front of the desk, tilted away from the desk.

Warily, she sat up, propped against pillows, her eyes darting around the room. When no one appeared to restrain her, she swung her legs over the edge of the large bed. Her whole body was sore, like she had run a marathon without warming up first and she grimaced as she stretched. She was in a clean white night dress, soft and silky to the touch. It was obviously expensive and also new like it had hardly been worn before.

She frowned; none of this was making any sense. She stood up unsteadily and her feet were bare and paler than she remembered. She jolted when she realised this was because they were clean. A quick inspection showed that her whole body was now in a state of cleanliness, and the sticky itch of filth was gone from her skin. Swallowing her discomfort, she padded silently across the lush, thick carpet to the desk.

She opened the top drawer and rifled through, coming across a picture frame. A middle aged man and woman stared at each other smiling and laughing. The man shared his bone structure and incorrigible grin with James, but it was the woman he most closely resembled. They both had the same jet black hair, wild and untameable; the same sparkling hazel eyes. These were his parents she realised. A lump formed in her throat. She hadn't seen her parents since the summer before her sixth year at Hogwarts. It was too dangerous to attempt to contact them now. Forcing herself out of the funk, she turned her attention to the top of the desk, over which an array of papers were spread.

She leafed through them and picked one up. Her stomach dropped and she felt nauseous as she read the heading 'Muggle Containment Programme'.

The door swung open and she twisted to face the door, a guilty look on her face as she hastily attempted to hide the evidence of her snooping behind her back. James walked in, his face hard and cold.

"You're up." He said shortly. He glanced down at the papers in her hand and his jaw tightened. In three large strides, he crossed the room and snatched them from her grasp.

Try as she might, she just could not muster a feeling of fear for this boy who was now a devoted Death Eater, though she knew she should be. It was hard though, considering that she was there when he was so excited to fly for the first time that he fell off his broom. She had watched him blow spit bubbles at her in their second year. She had seen him accidentally charm his eyebrows off in third year. She had done all nighters with him in the Common room before the OWLS and seen him almost high off caffeine, for Godric's sake.

"I see you've taken your bullying to a new level, Potter." She said coolly, not breaking eye contact. It sickened her, but she could see a sort of inevitable sense to it all. She had watched in distaste as, in the hallways of their old school, he played cruel jokes on weaker and younger students, hexing them for fun. It didn't take a stretch of the imagination to see him now oppressing people like her, especially now that it was even endorsed by those in power.

"That's 'Master Potter' to you," he said indifferently as he organised the files on the desk. "You shouldn't have meddled with these," and this time there was anger in his voice.

"You shouldn't have taken me as one of your fucking trophies! I am not an object for your own pleasure, I am a person!" Though she tried desperately to hide it, she couldn't quite mask the tears in her voice as she snapped at him. Her violent outburst weakened her and she visibly sagged, finding it difficult to remain standing.

"I beg to differ. You and your kind are lesser beings now, remember?" he replied heatedly, ignoring her weakened state. The reminder of the official decree stung her and she was speechless. She watched as he opened the drawers of his desk and filed the papers away. It was his room, she realised, though she couldn't for the life of her figure out why he had allowed her to recover in his personal quarters, especially with such sensitive materials out.

His back was turned and her eyes darted to the open door. If she was ever going to attempt an escape, now seemed like a good time. She took one hesitant step, and then another and then she flew across the room and out into the hallway. She had a split second to decide whether to go left or right. She darted to the right. She heard James' yell of alarm, but didn't look back as she raced down the hallway.

She should have waited, she realised. Her legs were wobbly and unsteady and her head was pounding with the exertion. She would be caught and he would be on high alert from now on, but she didn't allow herself to dwell on her mistake. She wouldn't go down without a fight.

And fight she did, when he inevitably caught up with her and grabbed her arm. She slapped him soundly on the face, relishing the red splotch that appeared within seconds.

"I don't think that was a good idea." He snapped, chest heaving with anger. "Now," he continued. "If you're feeling quite well, I think it's time to escort you to your new premises." He jerked her the opposite way, not loosening his grip for one second. She suppressed a yelp of pain and obstinately dug her heels into the hallway.

He turned to face her once more. "Resisting will cause a lot more trouble for you in the long run," he warned her, his fingers tightening on her arm.

"Please, just let me go," she begged. "Why are you doing this? Please." He ignored her pleas. She was exhausted again, the mental and physical strain of recent events causing her body to sag in despair. She had always thought that, should be captured, she would fight with every last bit of energy inside her. What she didn't know was just how much defeat took out of you. The adrenaline that had kept her going for the past year was gone and she was so tired, so bitterly tired. Maybe the situation now called not for outright fights and dissent, but cunning resistance and plans.

With this in mind, she allowed herself to be dragged away without any more fuss.

* * *

The house was huge. They were in what she assumed to be the Potter residence, which was an elaborately designed mansion. As they passed one of the numerous windows, she caught a glimpse of a wide open landscape with rolling hills and fields on the doorstep. It seemed like the middle of nowhere. Her spirits sunk lower as she realised that escaping from the mansion would just be the beginning of the struggle to freedom.

Her new room was in the basement. It was cold, damp and had nothing but a pile of dirty blankets and a bucket in it. There was silence as she took it in.

"You're treating me like an animal," she hissed at him, with barely concealed hatred.

"It's better than you deserve," he shot back at her. He turned to leave, and pulled a key out of his pocket. Cold, insidious fear rose up in her throat like bile. Instinctively, she grabbed him arm. He flinched as if she'd burned him.

"Are you leaving me here alone?" she said, and managed to conceal the tremble in her voice. He shook her hand off and brushed his shirt with distaste. Even though he was treating her like she was below him – like she was so insignificant he didn't even need to bother with her, for a fraction of a second, she had been scared of what the loneliness would bring.

"I have no use for you now." The door slammed shut with a foreboding clang. She considered attempting to apparate, but she was certain that wandless apparition didn't work and suspected that wards had been set up to prevent apparition in and out anyway.

Her knees gave out and she sank down with her back against the wall, shivering in the thin nightdress. The situation she was in had only just began to sink in. That she was a prisoner. That James Potter was a Death Eater. That her life, always uncertain, was now bleaker than ever before. She wished that she had been killed. She would have taken death a thousand times, rather than the situation she was in now. It terrified her, what awaited her in the future. What was it James had said? _ I once thought her attractive. I never got what I wanted though. _With the incident with the Snatchers so fresh in her mind, his insinuation paralysed her with fear.

Hours passed, but Lily didn't move until a loud crack startled her upright. Standing in the middle of the room was a house elf – tiny even by their standards. He was holding a small plate covered with a cloth and a small pitcher.

"Good afternoon, Miss Lily," he greeted her. "Gingko has brought Miss Lily some bread and cheese." He presented her with the bowl and whipped off the cloth. The bread looked freshly cooked and wholesome and there was a generous hunk of cheese to go with it. Lily looked at it in suspicion.

"Did Potter send you?"

"Oh no, Miss Lily, Master Potter didn't send Gingko. Gingko knows what to do when a guest arrives without Master Potter's instructions. It's too risky otherwise."

This simple sentence prompted so many questions in Lily's head that it took a moment to sort through them.

"What do you mean it's too risky? How do you know my name? And how many so called 'guests' does 'Master Potter' get?" she asked suspiciously, but an expression of alarm came over the house elf's face and he shook his head mutely. He set down the bowl and pitcher, bowed apologetically and popped away, twisting the cloth nervously between his fingers.

Bewildered, she stared at the spot where he had vanished before a loud rumble from her stomach brought her back to the present. Hesitantly, she sniffed the bowl. A heavenly scent wafted over her and her mouth watered. It had been so long since she'd had real, proper food that even this simple meal seemed like a banquet to her.

She was so preoccupied by the food that she didn't hear they key slowly turn in the lock, but she saw the door swing open and she braced herself. A small head poked around the frame, about half the height that she was expecting. A young girl of about nine or ten with large round eyes and jet black hair stared back at her.

"Who are you?" Lily asked dumbly. The girl entered cautiously and smiled shyly.

"I'm Louisa." They stared at each other for several minutes, Lily at a loss of what to say or do.

"What are you doing here?" she said eventually.

"I just wanted to see you. I'm bored, you see. James said I wasn't allowed to come to see you but Mum and Father are out now so it's safe." A peculiar expression crossed her face as she said mentioned her parents.

"Are you – is James your brother?" She'd never known James had any siblings but Louisa nodded solemnly. "How old are you?" she asked the girl.

"I'm nine. How old are you?"

"Me?" said Lily, surprised she had to think about it. "Well, I suppose I'm seventeen." Her seventeenth birthday had come and gone without as much as a thought from her. She would have been a legal witch now, if she had any rights left.

They talked some more, and Lily was astonished at how much she had missed simple human interaction. The fact that the best conversations she'd had in a year was with someone eight years her junior was a sad thought.

They both fell silent when sharp, echoing footsteps approached. The door burst open. James' worried face appeared in the doorway. Seeing the two of them sitting cross legged on the floor opposite each other, he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Lou! I told you that you're not allowed down here!" he said exasperatedly, running his hands through his hair in a gesture she remembered well. Louisa stood up, a guilty expression on her face.

"I'm so bored here though. Mum and Father never let me do anything fun and then they went out and I saw Gingko preparing bread and cheese so I knew where to go and I promise I won't tell if you don't." Barely suppressing a sigh, James caught hold of Louisa's hand.

"I told you how dangerous it is. They're out but that doesn't mean they're not watching! If…" he trailed off and glanced at Lily, as if just remembering that she was there. She had been watching the exchange with interest, noting with some surprise the shining love and affection in James's eyes as he looked at Louisa. He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a steadying breath. "Merlin and Agrippa. You are going to be the death of me, Louisa." He muttered.

Then, to Lily, "My apologies for the interruption…" there was an awkward pause and he cleared his throat uncomfortably, "I'm sorry." He was acting out of character. There was a soft tilt to his lips and his eyes were worried. He seemed to be debating whether to say something more, until a bell rang three times, echoing around the house. At once, his features hardened, and he all but shoved Louisa out of the door.

* * *

When she had been alone once again for a few minutes, she began to properly inspect the room. The only ways in and out appeared to be the small window through which a measly ray of light shone weakly through and the solid oak door that was locked on the outside. Peering through the keyhole, she saw nothing but a stone wall and what may have been a handle on a broom. She racked her brains, trying to remember if she had seen a broom as she walked in, but remembered nothing.

She was angry at herself for missing the chance to escape when Louisa came to visit. The door had been open, and the only thing in her way was a nine year old girl. She had just been so flummoxed that it had completely escaped her mind.

She spent ages trying to formulate a way, any way to get out of the smelly, dank room but it was inescapable. The light had almost faded by this time, and so she gave up but only because it was getting impossible to see in the dim light.

With a bang, Gingko was back, and he addressed her with a wavering voice. Lily could see fear in his eyes.

"Mudblood, the Master and Lady of the house would like to see you," It sounded like he was holding back tears.

Completely nonplussed by his behaviour, and the slur which he had thrown at her when before he had addressed her as 'Miss', she shrugged helplessly.

"You must come with Gingko." He continued. Watching him closely, she could see his small body trembling slightly and felt the urge to comfort him.

"Are you alright, Gingko?" she asked softly.

"Mudblood must not speak!" he hissed and this time a tear spilled from his large eyes. He turned and walked out of the door, then watched her as she followed. This time, as she was led through the mansion, she paid close attention to the details of the house. The Potters were obviously extremely rich and the house appeared to go on forever. She was already lost and they had barely seen any of the house. It would be impossible to escape.

Gingko led her into a large lounge, expensively and tastefully furnished, where a man and a woman lounged on sofas being attended to by several other house elves. All of the elves had their heads bowed in submission, or fear, or both – Lily couldn't tell. As they entered the room, a house elf spilled some water on the floor. Lily watched in horror as the man picked up a cane, tossed it to a house elf and ordered the house elf to beat himself. He looked on with a bored expression on his face, until with a flick of his fingers, he ordered the house elf to stop. The house elf slowly got to his feet, bleeding from several head wounds, and passed the cane back. As Gingko came closer, he let out a small, unintentional yelp and his trembling became more violent.

"Master and Lady Rookwood, may I present the mudblood, Master Potter's trophy. Mudblood, this is Master Erasmus and Lady Mnemosyne Rookwood." As soon as the introductions were over, he scuttled away as fast as his little legs could carry him.

She studied them carefully and they stared right back at her. Mnemosyne was sallow skinned and fragile, but there was a sadistic glint in her eyes that spoke of a terrifying character. Erasmus stared at her in disgust, his silver cane clutched delicately in his hand.

"Rather ugly little thing, isn't she?" said Mnemosyne to her husband. "I can't imagine that James would want such a despicable creature."

"I'm standing right here you know," said Lily insolently. Mnemosyne's eyes thinned in fury and her mouth gaped. The house elves all froze and turned to her with wide, frightened eyes. Erasmus' face had gone red with anger. Lily's stomach sank in fear.

"You dare speak to my wife?" he said, deadly quiet, spittle flying from his mouth. "You filthy mudblood! You disgusting little rat! I think it's time to teach you a lesson!" he advanced on her and held up his cane. With one sharp movement, he swung it down on her back. It landed with a sickening crack. She collapsed onto her knees with a cry of pain, her back on fire. Erasmus raised his arm to strike again, but a hand reached out and grabbed his arm.

"Father, please." Said James. His face was strained. There was a standoff for a couple of moments, Erasmus refusing to lower his arm, but James not removing his hand. Erasmus let out a breath, stepping back and simultaneously smoothing out his dress robes. James pulled Lily to her feet but she recoiled from him and focussed on holding back tears. "She belongs to me; let me deal with her."

"Very well." He snapped. "But, if I ever see such insolence from the likes of her again, if she ever dares to look at my wife or me again, I will not be so merciful."

James' hand was under her arm, and he tugged her gently towards an archway that she had not noticed until then. Too stunned and in pain to argue, she followed, thankful that she was out of the presence of the monster.

"Why did you call him Father?" she whispered to him, only half realising what she was saying and whom she was saying it to. "He's not your father."

James glanced around nervously.

"He's my adopted father." He murmured to her as he sat her down on a stool in the huge kitchen. Several house elves were at work, and the symphony of smells made her mouth water, despite the fact that she had eaten more today that she used to have in a week.

"Maeve, can you get some ice?" he asked a house elf. She nodded obediently and apparated away.

"Are you alright?" she nodded, and shrank away from his touch as he attempted to inspect the damage. Holding his hands in the air to signify surrender, he backed away. She had begun to shiver, minutely at first, but it grew more violent until even her teeth were chattering.

"You're going into shock," he said. Just then, Mnemosyne entered the room, inspecting the house elves, and James became visibly tenser.

"Absolutely unacceptable, do you understand?" James admonished Lily, picking up an imaginary conversation. "I will not have my trophy behaving so shamefully. Next time this happens, you can be sure I will take measures to punish you more severely." His eyes bore into hers meaningfully and for the first time, she began to pick up that maybe there was more going on that it had first appeared. She nodded, going along with the charade.

Maeve apparated back, with an icepack in her hands, but when she caught sight of Mnemosyne, she froze like a deer in the headlights and then popped away again.

"No, no this will not do!" Mnemosyne's voice was shrill and her face pinched in anger. The house elf she was reprimanding shrunk away as if in expectation of a blow but it did not come.

"Mum, you better go and sit down. You know how getting worked up is bad for your health." James was leading her away, out of the kitchen and as soon as the pair had disappeared, all the house elves relaxed and sighed in relief.

Not two minutes later, James was back and went to the house elf that Mnemosyne had just been with.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, thank you Master Potter." The house elf said gratefully. James sat down heavily in a chair and massaged his temples. Lily took the opportunity to study him, properly study him for the first time. There were frown lines etched into his forehead and his mouth was pulled down at the edges. He looked exhausted, with dark rings around his eyes and a pale complexion. He looked awful. Maeve appeared once more and tapped James on the leg, holding out the ice.

"Thank you, Maeve," with a sigh, he got up once more and approached her slowly. "Put this on your back, if you can reach," he told her. She accepted in gratefully and tried to place it on the burning strip of flesh in the middle of her back. The only thing she achieved was wetting the wrong place on the nightdress.

"What's going on, Potter?" she asked him, desperate for the truth. His eyes darted nervously around and he shook his head at her.

"Let me do it," he said, gesturing to the icepack. Reluctantly, she handed it to him, and tried not to flinch when he stepped closer.

But, as soon as his hands touched her, even through the material of the nightdress, she had to suppress a gasp. His hands were so soft and gentle and it had been so long since anyone had touched her like this that she almost felt like crying.

The pure absence of human interaction and affection had affected her more than she thought. Ever since seeing the picture of James' parents, she felt the burning desire to see hers again, to know if they were even still alive.

James leaned closer to her, and all the hairs on her neck rose. When he spoke, it was in a whisper, so close to her ear that she felt his breath fan out across her skin, causing her to break out in goose bumps.

"Play the game. Do you understand?" he said.

* * *

_Sorry! I'm so sorry! I suck so bad. I feel awful for the eternity between the updates, especially because it's the summer holidays and I should theoretically have tons of time. But, work experience, UCAS work and family weddings do tend to pile up. But, thank you for the reviews full of kind words and encouragement, it really warms my heart!_

_I will try my best for a shorter update time next time. As ever, please correct any mistakes. Thanks xxx_


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